David seems to have been in a great strait when he
penned this psalm, and, upon some account or other, very uneasy;
for it is with some difficulty that he conquers his passion, and
composes his spirit himself to take that good counsel which he had
given to others (xxxvii.)
to rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him, without fretting;
for it is easier to give the good advice than to give the good
example of quietness under affliction. What was the particular
trouble which gave occasion for the conflict David was now in does
not appear. Perhaps it was the death of some dear friend or
relation that was the trial of his patience, and that suggested to
him these meditations of morality; and at the same time, it should
seem too, he himself was weak and ill, and under some prevailing
distemper. His enemies likewise were seeking advantages against
him, and watched for his halting, that they might have something to
reproach him for. Thus aggrieved, I. He relates the struggle that
was in his breast between grace and corruption, between passion and
patience, ver. 1-3. II. He
meditates upon the doctrine of man's frailty and mortality, and
prays to God to instruct him in it, ver. 4-6. III. He applies to God for the
pardon of his sons, the removal of his afflictions, and the
lengthening out of his life till he was ready for death, ver. 7-13. This is a funeral psalm,
and very proper for the occasion; in singing it we should get our
hearts duly affected with the brevity, uncertainty, and calamitous
state of human life; and those on whose comforts God has, by death,
made breaches, will find this psalm of great use to them, in order
to their obtaining what we ought much to aim at under such an
affliction, which is to get it sanctified to us for our spiritual
benefit and to get our hearts reconciled to the holy will of God in
it.

Devout Reflections; Brevity and Vanity of
Life.

To the chief musician, even to Jeduthun. A psalm of
David.

1 I said, I will take heed to my ways, that I
sin not with my tongue: I will keep my mouth with a bridle, while
the wicked is before me. 2 I was dumb with silence, I held
my peace, even from good; and my sorrow was stirred.
3 My heart was hot within me, while I was musing the fire burned:
then spake I with my tongue, 4 Lord, make me to know mine end, and the measure
of my days, what it is; that I may know how frail I
am. 5 Behold, thou hast made my days as a
handbreadth; and mine age is as nothing before thee: verily
every man at his best state is altogether vanity. Selah.
6 Surely every man walketh in a vain show: surely they are
disquieted in vain: he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not
who shall gather them.

David here recollects, and leaves upon
record, the workings of his heart under his afflictions; and it is
good for us to do so, that what was thought amiss may be amended,
and what was well thought of may be improved the next time.

I. He remembered the covenants he had made
with God to walk circumspectly, and to be very cautious both of
what he did and what he said. When at any time we are tempted to
sin, and are in danger of falling into it, we must call to mind the
solemn vows we have made against sin, against the particular sin we
are upon the brink of. God can, and will, remind us of them
(Jer. ii. 20, Thou
saidst, I will not transgress), and therefore we ought to
remind ourselves of them. So David did here.

1. He remembers that he had resolved, in
general, to be very cautious and circumspect in his walking
(v. 1): I said, I
will take heed to my ways; and it was well said, and what he
would never unsay and therefore must never gainsay. Note, (1.) It
is the great concern of every one of us to take heed to our ways,
that is, to walk circumspectly, while others walk at all
adventures. (2.) We ought stedfastly to resolve that we will take
heed to our ways, and frequently to renew that resolution. Fast
bind, fast find. (3.) Having resolved to take heed to our ways, we
must, upon all occasions, remind ourselves of that resolution, for
it is a covenant never to be forgotten, but which we must be always
mindful of.

2. He remembers that he had in particular
covenanted against tongue-sins—that he would not sin with his
tongue, that he would not speak amiss, either to offend God or
offend the generation of the righteous, Ps. lxxiii. 15. It is not so easy as we could
wish not to sin in thought; but, if an evil thought should arise in
his mind, he would lay his hand upon his mouth, and suppress it,
that it should go no further: and this is so great an attainment
that, if any offend not in word, the same is a perfect man;
and so needful a one that of him who seems to be religious, but
bridles not his tongue, it is declared His religion is
vain. David had resolved, (1.) That he would at all times watch
against tongue-sins: "I will keep a bridle, or muzzle,
upon my mouth." He would keep a bridle upon it, as upon the
head; watchfulness in the act and exercise is the hand upon the
bridle. He would keep a muzzle upon it, as upon an unruly dog that
is fierce and does mischief; by particular stedfast resolution
corruption is restrained from breaking out at the lips, and so is
muzzled. (2.) That he would double his guard against them when
there was most danger of scandal—when the wicked is before
me. When he was in company with the wicked he would take heed
of saying any thing that might harden them or give occasion to them
to blaspheme. If good men fall into bad company, they must take
heed what they say. Or, when the wicked is before me, in my
thoughts. When he was contemplating the pride and power, the
prosperity and flourishing estate, of evil-doers, he was tempted to
speak amiss; and therefore then he would take special care what he
said. Note, The stronger the temptation to a sin is the stronger
the resolution must be against it.

II. Pursuant to these covenants he made a
shift with much ado to bridle his tongue (v. 2): I was dumb with silence; I
held my peace even from good. His silence was commendable; and
the greater the provocation was the more praiseworthy was his
silence. Watchfulness and resolution, in the strength of God's
grace, will do more towards the bridling of the tongue than we can
imagine, though it be an unruly evil. But what shall we say of his
keeping silence even from good? Was it his wisdom that he
refrained from good discourse when the wicked were before him,
because he would not cast pearls before swine? I rather think it
was his weakness; because he might not say any thing, he would say
nothing, but ran into an extreme, which was a reproach to the law,
for that prescribes a mean between extremes. The same law which
forbids all corrupt communication requires that which is good
and to the use of edifying, Eph.
iv. 29.

III. The less he spoke the more he thought
and the more warmly. Binding the distempered part did but draw the
humour to it: My sorrow was stirred, my heart was hot within
me, v. 3. He
could bridle his tongue, but he could not keep his passion under;
though he suppressed the smoke, that was as a fire in his bones,
and, while he was musing upon his afflictions and upon the
prosperity of the wicked, the fire burned. Note, Those that are of
a fretful discontented spirit ought not to pore much, for, while
they suffer their thoughts to dwell upon the causes of the
calamity, the fire of their discontent is fed with fuel and burns
the more furiously. Impatience is a sin that has its ill cause
within ourselves, and that is musing, and its ill effects upon
ourselves, and that is no less than burning. If therefore we would
prevent the mischief of ungoverned passions, we must redress the
grievance of ungoverned thoughts.

IV. When he did speak, at last, it was to
the purpose: At the last I spoke with my tongue. Some make
what he said to be the breach of his good purpose, and conclude
that, in what he said, he sinned with his tongue; and so they make
what follows to be a passionate wish that he might die, like
Elijah (1 Kings xix. 4) and
Job, ch. vi. 8, 9.
But I rather take it to be, not the breach of his good purpose, but
the reformation of his mistake in carrying it too far; he had kept
silence from good, but now he would so keep silence no longer. He
had nothing to say to the wicked that were before him, for to them
he knew not how to place his words, but, after long musing, the
first word he said was a prayer, and a devout meditation upon a
subject which it will be good for us all to think much of.

1. He prays to God to make him sensible of
the shortness and uncertainty of life and the near approach of
death (v. 4):
Lord, make me to know my end and the measure of my days. He
does not mean, "Lord, let me know how long I shall live and when I
shall die." We could not, in faith, pray such a prayer; for God has
nowhere promised to let us know, but has, in wisdom, locked up that
knowledge among the secret things which belong not to us, nor would
it be good for us to know it. But, Lord, make me to know my
end, means, "Lord, give me wisdom and grace to consider it
(Deut. xxxii. 29) and to
improve what I know concerning it." The living know that they
shall die (Eccl. ix. 5),
but few care for thinking of death; we have therefore need to pray
that God by his grace would conquer that aversion which is in our
corrupt hearts to the thoughts of death. "Lord, make me to
consider," (1.) "What death is. It is my end, the end of my life,
and all the employments and enjoyments of life. It is the end of
all men," Eccl. vii. 2. It is
a final period to our state of probation and preparation, and an
awful entrance upon a state of recompence and retribution. To the
wicked man it is the end of all joys; to a godly man it is the end
of all griefs. "Lord, give me to know my end, to be better
acquainted with death, to make it more familiar to me (Job xvii. 14), and to be more
affected with the greatness of the change. Lord, give me to
consider what a serious thing it is to die." (2.) "How near it is.
Lord, give me to consider the measure of my days, that they are
measured in the counsel of God" (the end is a fixed end, so the
word signifies; my days are determined, Job xiv. 5) "and that the measure is but
short: My days will soon be numbered and finished." When we look
upon death as a thing at a distance we are tempted to adjourn the
necessary preparations for it; but, when we consider how short life
is, we shall see ourselves concerned to do what our hand finds to
do, not only with all our might, but with all possible expedition.
(3.) That it is continually working in us: "Lord, give me to
consider how frail I am, how scanty the stock of life is, and how
faint the spirits which are as the oil to keep that lamp burning."
We find by daily experience that the earthly house of this
tabernacle is mouldering and going to decay: "Lord, make us to
consider this, that we may secure mansions in the house not made
with hands."

2. He meditates upon the brevity and vanity
of life, pleading them with God for relief under the burdens of
life, as Job often, and pleading them with himself for his
quickening to the business of life.

(1.) Man's life on earth is short and of no
continuance, and that is a reason why we should sit loose to it and
prepare for the end of it (v.
5): Behold, thou hast made my days as a
hand-breadth, the breadth of four fingers, a certain dimension,
a small one, and the measure whereof we have always about us,
always before our eyes. We need no rod, no pole, no measuring line,
wherewith to take the dimension of our days, nor any skill in
arithmetic wherewith to compute the number of them. No; we have the
standard of them at our fingers' end, and there is no
multiplication of it; it is but one hand-breadth in all. Our time
is short, and God has made it so; for the number of our months
is with him. It is short, and he knows it to be so: It is as
nothing before thee. He remembers how short our time is,
Ps. lxxix. 47. It is
nothing in comparison with thee; so some. All time is nothing
to God's eternity, much less our share of time.

(2.) Man's life on earth is vain and of no
value, and therefore it is folly to be fond of it and wisdom to
make sure of a better life. Adam is Abel—man is vanity, in
his present state. He is not what he seems to be, has not what he
promised himself. He and all his comforts lie at a continual
uncertainty; and if there were not another life after this, all
things considered, he were made in vain. He is vanity; he is
mortal, he is mutable. Observe, [1.] How emphatically this truth is
expressed here. First, Every man is vanity, without
exception; high and low, rich and poor, all meet in this.
Secondly, He is so at his best estate, when he is
young, and strong, and healthful, in wealth and honour, and the
height of prosperity; when he is most easy, and merry, and secure,
and thinks his mountain stands strong. Thirdly, He is
altogether vanity, as vain as you can imagine. All man is
all vanity (so it may be read); every thing about him is
uncertain; nothing is substantial and durable but what relates to
the new man. Fourthly, Verily he is so. This is a truth of
undoubted certainty, but which we are very unwilling to believe and
need to have solemnly attested to us, as indeed it is by frequent
instances. Fifthly, Selah is annexed, as a note commanding
observation. "Stop here, and pause awhile, that you may take time
to consider and apply this truth, that every man is vanity." We
ourselves are so. [2.] For the proof of the vanity of man, as
mortal, he here mentions three things, and shows the vanity of each
of them, v. 6.
First, The vanity of our joys and honours: Surely every
man walks (even when he walks in state, when he walks in
pleasure) in a shadow, in an image, in a vain show. When he
makes a figure his fashion passes away, and his great pomp is but
great fancy, Acts xxv. 23.
It is but a show, and therefore a vain show, like the rainbow, the
gaudy colours of which must needs vanish and disappear quickly when
the substratum is but a cloud, a vapour; such is life (Jam. iv. 14), and therefore such are
all the gaieties of it. Secondly, The vanity of our griefs
and fears. Surely they are disquieted in vain. Our
disquietudes are often groundless (we vex ourselves without any
just cause, and the occasions of our trouble are often the
creatures of our own fancy and imagination), and they are always
fruitless; we disquiet ourselves in vain, for we cannot, with all
our disquietment, alter the nature of things nor the counsel of
God; things will be as they are when we have disquieted ourselves
ever so much about them. Thirdly, The vanity of our cares
and toils. Man takes a great deal of pains to heap up
riches, and they are but like heaps of manure in the furrows of
the field, good for nothing unless they be spread. But, when he has
filled his treasures with his trash, he knows not who shall
gather them, nor to whom they shall descend when he is gone;
for he shall not take them away with him. He asks not, For whom
do I labour? and that is his folly, Eccl. iv. 8. But, if he did ask, he could not
tell whether he should be a wise man or a fool, a friend or a foe,
Eccl. ii. 19. This is
vanity.

Confidence in God; David Pleading with
God.

7 And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope
is in thee. 8 Deliver me from all my transgressions:
make me not the reproach of the foolish. 9 I was dumb, I
opened not my mouth; because thou didst it. 10 Remove
thy stroke away from me: I am consumed by the blow of thine hand.
11 When thou with rebukes dost correct man for iniquity,
thou makest his beauty to consume away like a moth: surely every
man is vanity. Selah. 12 Hear my prayer, O Lord, and give ear unto my cry; hold not thy
peace at my tears: for I am a stranger with thee, and
a sojourner, as all my fathers were. 13 O spare me,
that I may recover strength, before I go hence, and be no more.

The psalmist, having meditated on the
shortness and uncertainty of life, and the vanity and vexation of
spirit that attend all the comforts of life, here, in these verses,
turns his eyes and heart heaven-ward. When there is no solid
satisfaction to be had in the creature it is to be found in God,
and in communion with him; and to him we should be driven by our
disappointments in the world. David here expresses,

I. His dependence on God, v. 7. Seeing all is vanity, and
man himself is so, 1. He despairs of a happiness in the things of
the world, and disclaims all expectations from it: "Now, Lord,
what wait I for? Even nothing from the things of sense and
time; I have nothing to wish for, nothing to hope for, from this
earth." Note, The consideration of the vanity and frailty of human
life should deaden our desires to the things of this world and
lower our expectations from it. "If the world be such a thing as
this, God deliver me from having, or seeking, my portion in it." We
cannot reckon upon constant health and prosperity, nor upon comfort
in any relation; for it is all as uncertain as our continuance
here. "Though I have sometimes foolishly promised myself this and
the other from the world, I am now of another mind." 2. He takes
hold of happiness and satisfaction in God: My hope is in
thee. Note, When creature-confidences fail, it is our comfort
that we have a God to go to, a God to trust to, and we should
thereby be quickened to take so much the faster hold of him by
faith.

II. His submission to God, and his cheerful
acquiescence in his holy will, v. 9. If our hope be in God for a
happiness in the other world, we may well afford to reconcile
ourselves to all the dispensations of his providence concerning us
in this world: "I was dumb; I opened not my mouth in a way
of complaint and murmuring." He now again recovered that serenity
and sedateness of mind which were disturbed, v. 2. Whatever comforts he is deprived
of, whatever crosses he is burdened with, he will be easy.
"Because thou didst it; it did not come to pass by chance,
but according to thy appointment." We may here see, 1. A good God
doing all, and ordering all events concerning us. Of every event we
may say, "This is the finger of God; it is the Lord's doing,"
whoever were the instruments. 2. A good man, for that reason,
saying nothing against it. He is dumb, he has nothing to object, no
question to ask, no dispute to raise upon it. All that God does is
well done.

III. His desire towards God, and the
prayers he puts up to him. Is any afflicted? let him pray,
as David here,

1. For the pardoning of his sin and the
preventing of his shame, v.
8. Before he prays (v. 10), Remove thy stroke from
me, he prays (v.
8), "Deliver me from all my offences, from the
guilt I have contracted, the punishment I have deserved, and the
power of corruption by which I have been enslaved." When God
forgives our sins he delivers us from them, he delivers us from
them all. He pleads, Make me not a reproach to the foolish.
Wicked people are foolish people; and they then show their folly
most when they think to show their wit, by scoffing at God's
people, and you can find
more about that here on
st-takla.org on other commentaries and
dictionary entries. When David prays that God would pardon his sins, and not
make him a reproach, it is to be taken as a prayer for peace of
conscience ("Lord, leave me not to the power of melancholy, which
the foolish will laugh at me for"), and as a prayer for grace, that
God would never leave him to himself, so far as to do any thing
that might make him a reproach to bad men. Note, This is a good
reason why we should both watch and pray against sin, because the
credit of our profession is nearly concerned in the preservation of
our integrity.

2. For the removal of his affliction, that
he might speedily be eased of his present burdens (v. 10): Remove thy stroke
away from me. Note, When we are under the correcting hand of
God our eye must be to God himself, and not to any other, for
relief. He only that inflicts the stroke can remove it; and we may
then in faith, and with satisfaction, pray that our afflictions may
be removed, when our sins are pardoned (Isa. xxxviii. 17), and when, as here, the
affliction is sanctified and has done its work, and we are humbled
under the hand of God.

(1.) He pleads the great extremity he was
reduced to by his affliction, which made him the proper object of
God's compassion: I am consumed by the blow of thy hand. His
sickness prevailed to such a degree that his spirits failed, his
strength was wasted, and his body emaciated. "The blow, or
conflict, of thy hand has brought me even to the gates of death."
Note, The strongest, and boldest, and best of men cannot bear up
under, much less make head against, the power of God's wrath. It
was not his case only, but any man will find himself an unequal
match for the Almighty, v.
11. When God, at any time, contends with us, when with
rebukes he corrects us, [1.] We cannot impeach the equity of his
controversy, but must acknowledge that he is righteous in it; for,
whenever he corrects man, it is for iniquity. Our ways and our
doings procure the trouble to ourselves, and we are beaten with a
rod of our own making. It is the yoke of our transgressions, though
it be bound with his hand, Lam.
i. 14. [2.] We cannot oppose the effects of his
controversy, but he will be too hard for us. As we have nothing to
move in arrest of his judgment, so we have no way of escaping the
execution. God's rebukes make man's beauty to consume away like
a moth; we often see, we sometimes feel, how much the body is
weakened and decayed by sickness in a little time; the countenance
is changed; where are the ruddy cheek and lip, the sprightly eye,
the lively look, the smiling face? It is the reverse of all this
that presents itself to view. What a poor thing is beauty; and what
fools are those that are proud of it, or in love with it, when it
will certainly, and may quickly, be consumed thus! Some make the
moth to represent man, who is as easily crushed as a moth with the
touch of a finger, Job iv.
19. Others make it to represent the divine rebukes,
which silently and insensibly waste and consume us, as the moth
does the garment. All this abundantly proves what he had said
before, that surely every man is vanity, weak and helpless; so he
will be found when God comes to contend with him.

(2.) He pleads the good impressions made
upon him by his affliction. He hoped that the end was accomplished
for which it was sent, and that therefore it would be removed in
mercy; and unless an affliction has done its work, though it may be
removed, it is not removed in mercy. [1.] It had set him a weeping,
and he hoped God would take notice of that. When the Lord God
called to mourning, he answered the call and accommodated himself
to the dispensation, and therefore could, in faith, pray, Lord,
hold not thy peace at my tears, v. 12. He that does not willingly
afflict and grieve the children of men, much less his own children,
will not hold his peace at their tears, but will either speak
deliverance for them (and, if he speak, it is done) or in the mean
time speak comfort to them and make them to hear joy and gladness.
[2.] It had set him a praying; and afflictions are sent to stir up
prayer. If they have that effect, and when we are afflicted we pray
more, and pray better, than before, we may hope that God will hear
our prayer and give ear to our cry; for the prayer which by his
providence he gives occasion for, and which by his Spirit of grace
he indites, shall not return void. [3.] It had helped to wean him
from the world and to take his affections off from it. Now he
began, more than ever, to look upon himself as a stranger and
sojourner here, like all his fathers, not at home in this
world, but travelling through it to another, to a better, and would
never reckon himself at home till he came to heaven. He pleads it
with God: "Lord, take cognizance of me, and of my wants and
burdens, for I am a stranger here, and therefore meet with strange
usage; I am slighted and oppressed as a stranger; and whence should
I expect relief but from thee, from that other country to which I
belong?"

3. He prays for a reprieve yet a little
longer (v. 13):
"O spare me, ease me, raise me up from this illness that I
may recover strength both in body and mind, that I may get into a
more calm and composed frame of spirit, and may be better prepared
for another world, before I go hence by death, and
shall be no more in this world." Some make this to be a
passionate wish that God would send him help quickly or it would be
too late, like that, Job x. 20,
21. But I rather take it as a pious prayer that God
would continue him here till by his grace he had made him fit to go
hence, and that he might finish the work of life before his life
was finished. Let my soul live, and it shall praise
thee.